


More Advanced Vices

by Jain



Category: Lynes and Mathey Series - Amy Griswold & Melissa Scott
Genre: Getting Back Together, M/M, Night on Fic Mountain Exchange, POV Third Person, Past Tense, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 19:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14940344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jain/pseuds/Jain
Summary: Ned wasn't entirely certain what Julian meant by the touch, but it must meansomething.





	More Advanced Vices

**Author's Note:**

  * For [evewithanapple](https://archiveofourown.org/users/evewithanapple/gifts).



"I think that one may be part of Cassiopeia." The words were accompanied by a warm but not unexpected touch at Ned's elbow. After a few weeks of uncertain intimacy, Julian was back to nudging and prodding him to get his attention, just as he had when they were schoolboys.

What _was_ unexpected was that the touch lingered. Ned looked down to see that Julian had linked their arms together. Julian met his gaze with a faintly challenging expression on his face, and Ned mustered up a smile despite the dizzying rush of blood in his ears. He wasn't entirely certain what Julian meant by the touch, but it must mean _something_. Julian wasn't the sort of man to walk arm-in-arm with any old acquaintance.

Ned's smile was apparently sufficient answer to Julian's challenge, whatever it might be; he relaxed against Ned's side and they strolled together, lazily pointing out the few visible stars in the London night sky to each other and speculating wildly as to their provenance.

By the time they'd reached Ned's boarding house, Ned had decided on his next course of action. He disengaged his arm gently from Julian's and, before Julian could get the wrong impression, took his hand and squeezed it. "Will you come up for a drink?"

Another deep look from Julian, this one less challenging and more...Ned didn't know what. Curious, perhaps, though Ned had always considered himself painfully straightforward in comparison to most of Julian's friends, who seemed to make a game out of opaqueness and obscurity.

"Love to," Julian said lightly, at last. Ned tried not to take the tone too much to heart. They'd been estranged for a long time; it was only natural if Julian's feelings were less warm than Ned's own. At least Julian was there and giving Ned his time and attention. That was no small prize, when it came to Julian, who had no compunctions about avoiding any and all social discourse that he found tedious...which was to say, most of it.

It was a small but real relief to know that when Julian accepted his invitations to dinner or the theatre--or a quiet drink in his rooms--that it was because he _wanted_ to do so.

Ned led the way upstairs, gestured Julian towards the sofa, and poured them both brandy and sodas. He handed Julian's over, and, after a brief hesitation, joined him on the sofa rather than take the nearby armchair. They were close enough that he could feel the heat of Julian's body beside him, though they weren't actually touching.

Julian sipped his drink with more haste than savor, and Ned found himself doing the same.

"Ned," Julian said, not as the precursor to anything, but as though Ned's name were a question. He put his hand on Ned's shoulder, his thumb sweeping along the clavicle and back.

Ned shivered. "Yes," he said, very firmly.

"Yes?"

Ned forced himself to face Julian. If he were misinterpreting this situation, he might die of mortification...but he didn't think he was misinterpreting. That had been a caress, albeit a relatively chaste one. Julian wanted to touch him. It was likely he would be willing to touch him more, if Ned only had the courage to ask for it.

"Yes, I'd like to go to bed with you," Ned said, all at once before he could lose his nerve, his face burning.

Julian's eyes widened momentarily, and then he tucked away his surprise and nodded. "All right."

Despite Ned's expectations, they didn't go to his bedroom straightaway, however. Julian commandeered both their glasses and set them on a nearby table, and then he turned to Ned with a faint smile playing across his lips. "Come here, then," he said.

Ned blinked at him, nonplussed. Come _where?_ They were already almost as close together on the sofa as two people could be...though 'almost' was perhaps the key word in that sentence. Ned scooted an inch closer so that they were pressed up against each other, and he put an arm around Julian.

The faintly supercilious expression on Julian's face lightened, and he melted against Ned. His hand rose to cup Ned's cheek, and then he leaned in the last few inches necessary to kiss him.

Ned's arm tightened around Julian, an involuntary clutch that only prompted Julian to kiss him harder, and then Julian's _tongue_ was in Ned's mouth and he froze for a brief, damning moment.

Julian drew back slightly--Ned's heart sinking into his boots--and he chuckled. "None of your lady friends from Oxford introduced you to Florentine kisses?" he asked, a lightly sardonic tone in his voice.

"No," Ned said. None of them had kissed him at all, in fact...though not for lack of trying on some of their parts. Nor had the dozen or so prostitutes he'd hired over the years, who had all projected an air of businesslike insouciance that had deterred Ned from even _desiring_ anything so tender as a kiss, much less asking for one. Indeed, the last person to kiss Ned had been Julian himself, when they'd been nineteen and 'kissing' meant a few quick busses on the cheek or lips as punctuation to the more important work of chasing their mutual orgasms. But Ned quailed from explaining even half of that embarrassing and sordid story to Julian, so he didn't elaborate further.

Luckily, Julian didn't seem in the mood to further dissect Ned's incomplete romantic education. "Just open your mouth and let me do the work for now, then," he said.

Ned might have protested the mollycoddling, except that there was a distinct gleam of excitement in Julian's eye at his proposal. So he let his mouth drop open into an 'O', feeling a bit of a fool, and Julian surged forward to kiss him again.

The warm, wet touch of Julian's tongue against his was no less of a shock for being expected. Ned drew in a sharp breath through his nose and concentrated on the oddly pleasurable sensation of Julian exploring his tongue and the roof of his mouth and his _teeth_.

After several long minutes of that, Julian's tongue retreated back into his own mouth, and Ned followed it almost unconsciously. Julian's mouth tasted different than his--which made sense now that he thought about it, but which had never occurred to him as something _to_ think about before. Underlying the lingering taste of brandy, there was a faintly sweet and sour taste, like ripe plums.

Julian's breath was coming faster, too, Ned noticed, and the hand on Ned's cheek had drifted down to his shoulder, which Julian clutched with what felt like genuine fervor. It was the strongest reaction Ned had gotten out of him since their first year in university, or perhaps even before that.

It was a heady feeling, and Ned found himself no less affected by it than by the press of Julian's lips against his and by Julian's talented tongue working in the shared space of their mouths.

Ned's mouth was buzzing with sensation by the time Julian pulled back slightly to say, "About that bed..."

Ned licked his lips and tasted Julian on them. "Through here," he said and stood, helped Julian to his feet, tugged him through the bedroom door.

He would've led them both straight to bed, but Julian said, "Wait," and resisted Ned's pull.

Ned turned to him, hoping he didn't look as anxious as he felt. Had Julian reconsidered? He'd been enjoying himself, Ned was certain of it--but had he suddenly remembered all of the ways they didn't suit, all of their differences in taste and opinion and personality, and decided to cut his losses? It wouldn't be the stupidest decision in the world if he had. Just the one that had a fair chance of breaking Ned's heart, if Ned really were as far gone on Julian as he suspected he was.

But Julian didn't follow that "wait" with a "no," didn't make his excuses and leave. Instead he stepped closer for yet another lingering kiss, and then his hands were moving deftly over Ned's body, unbuttoning and removing clothing until Ned was bare to the waist. His hand drifted across the placket of Ned's trousers, groping the length of his erection. Ned choked and thrust his hips forward into the touch.

"You, too," he managed and raised his hands towards Julian's necktie. Before he could return the favor, however, Julian had taken charge of his own clothing and undressed with even greater ease than he'd stripped Ned. He paused briefly over the waistband of his trousers, then unfastened them, as well.

Ned watched avidly as each successive layer of Julian's clothing was removed. He'd never actually seen Julian fully nude before, though he'd once been _very_ familiar with certain select portions of Julian's anatomy. It was extraordinary what a difference it made to see the entirety of Julian's body: the almost delicate scroll of his clavicle, his thin yet firm chest dusted with dark hair, his narrow hips and full bollocks and straining cock, his lean thighs attached to a pair of admittedly knobbly knees.

He was lovely and imperfect and wholly desirable. Ned wanted to look his fill and kiss him again and touch every part of him and hold him in a full-body embrace and fuck him until they both collapsed from exhaustion, and he didn't know which of those impulses to follow first.

The impasse was broken by Julian himself. "Take off your shoes," he said, and Ned hastened to obey. Then Julian's hands were back on Ned's body, removing the last of his clothes, though slower than he'd done for himself, and with pauses for caresses and the more than occasional kiss.

By the time they finally climbed into bed together, Ned was aching with pleasure and praying that he could hold off long enough to keep from disappointing Julian. He half-wished to drag Julian on top of him and let nature take its course the way they'd always done before, but he feared that would be too unsophisticated for Julian's current tastes.

Yet it seemed an even greater misstep to try to apply the knowledge he'd acquired from prostitutes to this encounter. Not least because, as much as he desperately wanted to come, he wanted even more desperately for _Julian_ to enjoy himself, and Ned's more recent lessons were of less than no help there. So he focused on restraining himself from a too hasty conclusion to their evening, and let Julian direct the proceedings.

Fortunately, Julian seemed more than happy to assume that role. He laid Ned out on his back and pressed warmly up against his side, all smooth skin interrupted by the gentle scratch of hair at chest and groin and leg. That touch alone was enough to make Ned shiver enjoyably, and then Julian pressed a row of kisses along his jaw while his right hand commenced stroking and tweaking and caressing Ned's body.

After a brief mental struggle, Ned gave himself up to the sensation. If he _did_ come from this, then Julian had no one to blame but himself.

He slid his own right hand over to stroke Julian's thigh and hip and, cautiously, the curve of his arse. All of which Julian approved, based on the unsubtle rocking of his erection against Ned's side.

Despite the numerous differences, the evening had taken an oddly nostalgic turn...at least until Julian slid down and _bit_ Ned's nipple with carefully applied force, just as he stroked his cock firmly, and Ned convulsed with somewhat confused ecstasy.

Julian licked the abused nipple several times and petted Ned through the aftershocks of his orgasm, while Ned gasped for breath and hoped desperately that whatever noise he'd just made hadn't been loud enough to disturb his neighbors.

"Your turn?" he said when his heartrate had returned to normal and he could breathe easily again. He wasn't at all certain how to repay that experience, but he was determined to do his best.

Julian smiled. "Will you turn over? I'm not going to fuck you," he reassured quickly, before Ned could even decide whether he needed or wanted the reassurance. "But I'd like to try something. I think you'll enjoy it, too. Let me know if you don't."

That was more than good enough for Ned. He turned over and let Julian nudge him into position--hips up, thighs together--and then Julian slipped his hard cock between Ned's thighs, and Ned shuddered with pleasure. It wasn't as strong and immediate as Julian's hand on his erection had been earlier, but his thighs were surprisingly sensitive, and Julian's cock rubbed against Ned's balls in a delicious way with each stroke.

Also, Julian pressed soft kisses to Ned's back as his hips worked, which made Ned's heart clench a little, even as he told himself that it was the pursuit of pleasure, not tenderness, that was prompting Julian.

And then he told himself the same thing--though with rather less success--when Julian groaned his satisfaction and came all over Ned's thighs and, after the briefest pause to urge Ned to turn over, promptly curled around him like a strangler vine.

Ned stroked him gently. This was just like the Julian of old; Ned was both surprised and glad that Julian hadn't outgrown the desire to cuddle shamelessly after an orgasm.

"We should clean up," he said after a while, regretfully. Cleaning up was the first step towards Julian deciding it was time to go to home. They couldn't just lie there until they _stuck_ to each other, however, no matter how much Ned might wish it.

He wasn't expecting Julian to swab them off carelessly with the bedsheet and to lie back down...though sadly, with a hand's breadth of space between the two of them. "Your landlady isn't the inconveniently nosy type, is she?" he asked. And then, in response to Ned's no doubt shocked look, "You can get away with more than you might think, as long as you aren't too regular in your habits."

"Oh." Ned had never even considered that spending the night with Julian might be an option, and he felt overwhelmed by the possibility. "She's fine, I think."

"Good," was all Julian had to say in response, and then he was asleep.

Ned stared down at him, bemused and joyful and half-frightened, all at once. This encounter had been vastly more successful than he'd hoped. Now he only needed to figure out how to make it happen again. Preferably forever. And if he could quiet his fears and anxieties long enough to actually get some sleep that night, that would be a good thing, too.


End file.
